


Pale Shelter

by Cluegirl



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-18
Updated: 2010-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:45:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cluegirl/pseuds/Cluegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius Malfoy has something Harry Potter wants, and while he's willing to make a deal, he's also more than ready to stack the deck in his favor.  Assuming Harry Potter doesn't have any tricks of his own up his sleeve...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pale Shelter

"I don't like this, Harry," Ginny said, looking around the dimly lit bar with a narrowed eye, "We shouldn't be here."

"You're right," he cut out, waving a discrete purifying spell over his tepid beer, "_WE_ shouldn't. The note said I was to come alone." The beer foamed a bit, and the glass looked cleaner, but otherwise there seemed to be no change, so Harry sipped the salty brew and pretended he couldn't see his partner's glare.

"As if I'd let you come alone when -"

"They have Snape, Gin, I couldn't just-"

"-a first year could see it was nothing but a trap to lure you out of-"

"-sit back and do nothing while they-"

"Excuse me for interrupting," a cultured voice slipped like a sharp knife through their hissed exchange, severing it clean, "but I must agree with the young lady. You really shouldn't be here."

"Look, mind your own-" Ginny half-turned, then froze as the tip of a wand parted the hair behind her ear. She swallowed, cut her eyes sideways to find Lucius Malfoy beside her, so close she could smell the nervous sweat under his cologne. "Harry..."

"Easily now," Malfoy smiled as Harry's wand came into view just under the edge of the bar, "best to keep things verbal at this juncture, don't you agree?" He gave a curt nod at the taproom behind them -- half empty a moment ago, it was half-full now. And who knew how many of those faces had seen the inside of a white mask recently?

Harry's eyes smouldered under the fall of his fringe as he watched Lucius claim the barstool Ginny hadn't been sitting in and pull the red-headed Auror into his lap like a favorite wench. "Let her go, Malfoy," he said through his teeth.

"Perhaps I will," Lucius allowed, nodding at the one-eyed bartender as though that alone would convey his order, "but that will largely depend on you, Mr. Potter."

"You've got all the hostages you need. Let her go."

"And you've got all the temper you need, and then some," Malfoy responded with a smile, "and, I might add, your wand. Surrendering that might well have an effect on my letting your lissome partner walk away -- especially upon such details as 'when,' and 'in what condition'."

Ginny stiffened, despite herself, despite the press of the wand in the soft hollow behind her ear, but Lucius hadn't overlooked her potential. Quick and warm, his fingers slipped down her wrist, closed over hers on the grip of her wand, and pulled their joined hands into her lap. "Sod you," she whispered as the parody of a caress left her wand pointed at her own belly.

But Malfoy only smiled, pressing a smirk or perhaps a kiss into her hair as Harry seethed. "Don't think too long, boy," he urged as the bartender appeared, a dusty bottle in one hand, and three snifters in the other, "The matter will be closed for debate once certain other parties begin to arrive."

The tension between them held, strained tight as the man poured and slid the snifters toward them. "Upstairs room's available, guv, just as you've ordered," he said with a leer at Ginny, "will it be just you and your friend, or is her young man along with you?"

Lucius passed the question to Harry with a look and a cocked eyebrow. Harry, in turn, gave a snarl as he slapped his wand down onto the counter beside the barkeep's hand. "Will you hold onto this for me?" he asked the startled man.

"Er, that is, I don't think-"

"Take it." The command rumbled through Harry's voice, and the man picked the wand up at once. "Now put it with your own wand," Harry instructed calmly, "and give it back to me when I ask you for it. ONLY," he caught the thick wrist, "to me."

Dazed, the man turned away, and Harry looked back to Lucius with murder in his eye. "Now let her go. Before the rest come."

"Harry no!" Ginny gasped, but Malfoy's wand prodded her silent.

"So you _did_ know it was a trap then," Malfoy purred in mock admiration, fingers closing just a bit tighter around those of his captive as she gave a wriggle.

"Of course I did," Harry said, reaching to take the snifter in front of Lucius. "The note came from you, after all."

Ginny, her blood boiling, could only glare at her partner as Lucius Malfoy, most wanted of the Death Eaters and Voldemort's right-hand, laughed appreciatively. "And yet you walked right in," the blond mused, "One can't help but wonder, did you have some harebrained scheme in mind, or did you just mean to improvise once you got here?"

"Oh, he's making this up as he goes," Ginny snarled, shaking Lucius' hand off hers to snatch up the brandy snifter from the bar and slam home a savagely burning gulp, "this is Harry bloody Potter you're talking to, Malfoy. You should know by now he's allergic to common sense!"

"Gin..."

"Belt up," she cut Harry off, turning to glare over her shoulder at Malfoy's bemused expression. "So what I want to know is, are we going to set to here and see how things play out with a Death Eater up against two Aurors..."

"Gin," Harry tried again.

"Shut it." She didn't glance at him, but weighed the heavy, breakable glass and its highly flammable contents against her palm as she calmly held Malfoy's arctic gaze, "Or are Harry and I going to walk out of this dive before the rest of your hem-kisser friends show up to party?"

"I'm not leaving without-"

"Half-right, Miss Weasley." This time it was Malfoy who cut Harry off, setting her wand on the bar at his elbow before taking the snifter from her hand to help himself to a sip. "You will be walking out. Alone. What I have to say is between Mr. Potter and myself."

"The devil it is-"

"_Imperio_"

Harry lunged and had Ginny's wand in his hand before the word left Lucius' lips. Unruffled, the blond lowered his own wand from before the glassy-eyed Auror and raised an eyebrow, invitation plain.

"Ginny, go home," Harry said in a tight voice, drawing her unresisting from Malfoy's lap and pressing her wand into her hand, "Disapparate to your apartment, then go sit in your favorite chair with your kneazle for..." He glanced at Malfoy.

"One hour," the man supplied, draining the last of the brandy from her glass.

"-For one hour. After that you can do whatever you want to do." Malfoy scowled at that addition, but Harry just returned it as he nudged his partner toward the door. "She's not part of this -- you don't get a mole for later."

The shrug Malfoy gave in response could have been read as surrender or indifference. "Have no fear, Mr. Potter," he said, leading the way toward the steep, dingy stairs, "the Dark Lord has had all the use he desires out of your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Harry muttered, refusing to rise to the goad. "Ginny's my partner."

"Mm. Is that what young people are calling it now? Still, one must wonder what she thinks of sharing your... affections so."

"Not that it's any of your business," Harry blushed, stopping on the steps to fold his arms across his chest, "but I'm not sharing anything with anyone-"

"Of course not." Lucius made good use of the narrow landing to crowd into Harry's space with a smug leer. "It's merely heroism that has you marching unarmed into a trap to ransom a man who's professed to hate you for the past nine years."

Harry's blush deepened, but he pressed forward into Malfoy's chest, so close his breath stirred ivory strands and the buttons of their robes ground. "And it's merely charity that has you helping a traitor to escape your master's revenge, is it?"

"I never denied Severus was _my_ lover," Lucius smirked, not giving an inch. Harry blinked, startled at the bluntness, then jerked back a step. Lucius, who had been expecting a shove, still managed to maintain his balance. "Even if you do manage to rescue him, Severus Snape will be no further use to your Order. His spying days are done, and you must know it will take him years to recover from his... ordeal," Harry thought he saw a shadow cross Lucius' face, but then he cocked his head and cut his gaze sidelong, all smug amusement and idle taunt. "Who else but a lover _would_ go to such lengths for a broken man?"

"Dumbledore-"

"Is not here," he brushed a fleck from Harry's collar, smirked when he felt the young Auror stifle a flinch, "_you_ are."

"Maybe he owes me money," Harry challenged, furious at the sense that he was losing a contest he didn't know the rules of. Malfoy's deepening amusement didn't help one bit as the blond produced a purse of coins from his pocket.

"Come now, Mr. Potter," he smirked when Harry shook his head, "Severus has always been poor as a church mouse and as proud as a lord. He can't have borrowed half this amount from you." Face blazing, Harry shook his head again, and Malfoy laughed. "And don't bother bringing up that life-debt nonsense, either, because he's already paid it."

Harry blinked, forcing the wave of horror away from his face, and hoping his heart wasn't really beating loud enough for Lucius to hear. "No he hasn't-"

The smirk deepened, and Lucius brushed a finger against Harry's jaw. "Oh, he has now, believe me. That life debt kept him from answering the questions that might have set him free and spared him much pain indeed. I was there, Potter --" and there was that shadow again, surfacing like a breath of steam in the arctic chill of those eyes. "I saw what he suffered to protect you."

Harry could feel his knuckles creaking as his fist strained to clench tighter. "You saw it," he breathed. "You stood there and watched your lover being tortured, and you did _nothing to save him?_"

Silence, each frozen upon the cusp of outrage. Then Lucius brought that bored smile back. "I wrote to you, didn't I?" He stepped away, flipping his ivory hair over his shoulder with a toss of his head. "And here you are -- the quintessential hero, all set to ride through Hell itself to your… companion's rescue." He made as though to continue up the stairs, but paused at the last minute. "You _do_ realize you'll suffer, don't you?"

When Harry made no answer, Lucius gave a low chuckle. "Ahh, Gryffindors. Yes, I rather think you _are_ expecting all manner of creative torments, aren't you?"

"Well, I expect you've your reputation to uphold and all," Harry allowed, "but I reckon I can last long enough for you to get me next to Snape." Lucius smirked, but it faded when Harry smirked back. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? You get me to Snape, and then I get him out?" This time it was the Auror who leaned close. "Well, you manage your bit and don't bother speculating about the rest, because I guarantee you won't see it coming."

"I've no need to speculate," Lucius breathed, leaning easily against the wall, intrigued and amused and just annoyed enough to make it interesting, "Veritaserum has a fascinating effect upon Occlumancers, did you know? It makes them as truthful and talkative as anyone else," and oh, how those green eyes fought not to widen, "but it seems Severus was more concerned with details about you than about that old fool he works for."

Lucius brushed his hand along the boy's shoulder, curious how far Potter would let him go before bolting or fighting him off. "He wouldn't tell us who your Secret Keeper was, but he told all about your lips…" He thumbed the lower one, bitten and chapped a bit, but every bit as full as Severus had said. "About your throat, and how very soft the skin is there…" A brush of fingers. Potter did not move, except to tilt just the tiniest bit… closer. "How easy to mark when you are lost to pleasure."

"He lied," Harry breathed around the suddenly thick air of the stairwell, hyper aware of the feather-light touch tracing his collarbone through his robes, of the blood pooling thick and hot underneath the knot of healthy fear that still clenched his guts, "I've seen him do that under Veritaserum."

"Well, my favorite Gryffindor," Lucius said, "I expect we'll find out soon enough-"

But before he could move, either away or closer-to, both men froze at the double-crack of apparation. Suddenly rigid in his arms, Harry looked up toward the thudding footfall overhead, but Lucius glimpsed the flicker of white masks reflected in the tavern's grimy mirror. He caught the young Auror's pointed chin with one hand, plucked his glasses from his face with the other, and when those hard-chewed lips opened to protest, Lucius kissed the boy soundly.

Harry made a wild sound deep in his throat, but that didn't stop him kissing back, tongue fencing, thrusting against Lucius', twining and sliding around it without even the distant pretence of pushing him out. And oh yes, but the boy was every bit as fiercely pliant as he'd expected, his every panting breath pressing him, lean and wiry and _hard_ against Lucius. Easy to see how this could lure a man astray…

Boots rang on the stairs above, and Malfoy pulled back with a gasp and a grin, fingers tightening on Potter's jaw, as if pressing his head back into the wall. _Trust me,_ he shaped silent words, as amused by the irony in his saying them as in Potter's infinitesimal nod.

"Sampling him early?" Dolohov's muffled voice came from above, peevish in the gloom.

"You were tardy," Lucius replied. "I amused myself. Still, seeing as how you've come at last, we might as well be on our way." Lucius slipped Potter's glasses into his own pocket. The boy's eyes followed the movement, and unseen, but felt clearly in the clenched jaw under Lucius' fingers, his tongue carefully arranged the key out of harm's way before speaking. Potter couldn't know what it was Lucius' tongue had passed to his, but his green eyes were all but ticking over the possibilities.

"You won't get away with it, you bastards," Potter spat at last. The line was so predictable Lucius had trouble fighting the urge to roll his eyes. But keeping to his role, he allowed himself one final stroke along the boy's velvet cheek.

"I believe we already have, Gryffindor." Nasty laughter in the packed stairwell added just the perfect melodramatic tone to Lucius' proclamation. "Now, will you walk out, or be bound and levitated like so much fresh meat?"

"Careful Lucius," Bellatrix said as Potter's glare sharpened, "his wand-"

"I've seen to that," he snapped, giving the boy a shove toward the stairs. "He's unarmed, outnumbered, and half-blind. Not even Godric Gryffindor himself would be foolish enough to try those odds."

"Funny thing, that," Potter said as the grumbling Death Eaters gave way, fanning out into the conspicuously empty tavern. "The Sorting Hat didn't actually want to put me in Gryffindor," he flashed a half-grin over his shoulder. "It liked me for Slytherin much better."

It was a warning, Lucius realized as those brilliant, naked eyes flashed a misplaced triumph. It was a warning, but he'd only just enough time to stiffen and snatch his hand away before Potter muttered "_Portus_" and Lucius gasped and folded around the mule-kick yank in his middle.  
_The glasses!_ he realized as the portkey dragged the world away. And it was almost enough to laugh; for wherever it took him, -- the boy's apartment, the Auror's headquarters, Snape's rooms at Hogwarts, or the Ministry holding cells -- there would be no going back.

Not this time.

Not ever again.

Lucius Malfoy was an accomplice now, to whatever madcap scheme the Boy Who Would Almost Certainly Survive This Too employed. His only shelter would lie in turning his coat, and taking Snape's path. How ironic.

And so as his feet at last stumbled onto the Rubicon's far shore, Lucius straightened his robes with a laugh and drew Potter's glasses from his pocket. "Well played, boy," he muttered as booted feet rang on stone, "well played indeed."


End file.
